"Baker, Kage - The Queen in the Hill" - читать интересную книгу автора (Baker Kage)

He said to me, "Does this offend you?" And I said, "Oh, no, divine Lord," and Lord Aegeus said, "Of course he isn't offended! Good sensible solid fellow that he is. Besides, you're rather a romantic choice, I think. You were her knight-errant, once upon a time in the pergola. Yes, throwing yourself between my baby darling and the wrath of Claude! Oh, that's good, wrath of Claude!" Lord Aegeus turned laughing to the other Lord, who didn't seem to think much of the joke.
I was thinking about Maeve with her tiny perfect face, with her moonlight hair, with her big liquid eyes and silvery laugh. I thought about the bodice of her gown. I told myself that it really would be a great honor, to be awarded such a wife. I said, "But will she love me?" and the Lord Aegeus assured me, "She can be quite affectionate, my friend. You'll treat her well, of course -- she has never been treated otherwise -- and really she doesn't require much! Flattery, presents, a sense of Romance. In addition to the obvious physical attentions," and he almost leered as he said it. That was a disconcerting thing, seeing a divine Lord with such an expression. They look so wise and noble as a rule.
But I agreed to take Maeve, because I did think she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. I think I'd have agreed even if I'd known about the tests that followed, to be certain my sperm count and motility were all that was desired. They were painful and embarrassing tests, but I told myself it was no worse a thing than careful cross-pollination in an orchard or a greenhouse. And what rose or apple blossom was so fair as Maeve?
But she didn't love me.
She was in a furious sulk the day of our wedding. Still she was lovely, her pouting lips were sensual. Lord Aegeus gave her to me in the pergola, to make it the more romantic, as he said. He had her gowned all in white like a bride, and -- to give her a sense of ceremony -- placed my hand in hers. He even broke open a pomegranate and presented it to me to feed her, and at first she spat out the bright seeds without even tasting them, fierce; but he spoke to her sternly and she obeyed at last, and crunched them sullenly. They crimsoned her tiny mouth, made her more desirable still.
So it was done, and Lord Aegeus placed his hands on our two heads and said, "Be fruitful and multiply, my children!" Then he gave us a bottle of wine, a good vintage from the Lords' and Ladies' own cellars, and left me to manage the rest of it.
* * * *
I took her to my suite in the servants' quarters, hoping she would be impressed with how important her new husband was; but she thought nothing of all my rooms, or my bromeliads, or my drafting table, or any of my things. All she would say was, "Hairy Beast!" and flounce away from me. She made a game of it, answering Hairy Beast to anything I said to her: Would you like to bathe, wife? _Hairy Beast!_ Shall I light a fire, wife? _Hairy Beast!_ Shall I play the lute for you, wife? _Hairy Beast!_
But I still had the bottle of good wine, so I went into my kitchen and prepared a wedding supper: partridges in a sauce of shallots and cream, with fresh bread and white grapes. I set it out, poured the wine and seated myself; she came at once and clambered up into the chair opposite, trailing her bridal finery. Without a word she fell to, reaching into the dish and taking a whole partridge to eat with her hands.
Even in that she was graceful, tearing daintily with her little sharp teeth. I didn't get much of the food, watching her spellbound as I did. You wouldn't believe a girl could have such terrible manners and be so enchanting. She smeared partridge grease on the winecup when she drank, sucked the bones loudly, greedily tore the soft center from the loaf, even blew her tiny nose in her napkin; but it was all beauty and refinement in my eyes. Beautiful people can do such things, and still be loved.
I drank more of the wine than she did, and it made me bold. When the partridges were all gone and Maeve was idly rolling grapes around on the table, I said: "What about that bath now, wife?" And she mocked me, she said, "What about that ba-ath now, wife? I don't want to bathe with you. You're ugly and hairy and old."
I told her I wasn't so old, that I was much younger than Lord Aegeus, and she stared with a blank face; then she shrugged so beautifully and said, "But you _look_ old." Her gaze wandered to the partridge bones in the dish and fixed on them, suddenly intense. Without looking up at me she said: "Make the bones come alive again!"
I told her I couldn't, and she said: "Yes you can! Just make them stand up in the dish and sing! Fallon could make them do that. Why can't you?"
I told her I wasn't as clever as Fallon. She raised scornful eyes to me.
"Can you make me a new gown without cutting any cloth?"
I told her No, and she said: "Fallon could! Can you make that stick in the fire grow green leaves again?"
I told her I couldn't, and she said: "Fallon could! He could make anything I told him to make, he was so clever. So why should I play with you, stupid thing?"
I set aside my winecup and I said, "Because Fallon is dead, and you're my wife."
She chewed her lower lip and sighed, she said: "My poor Fallon. I was supposed to be Queen in the Hill. He would have done everything for me. We'd have had lots of babies, and they'd have done everything for me too. Everybody would have brought me presents and played with me!" Tears welled in her eyes, perfect as diamonds. I reached out a hand to stroke her shoulder and she did not draw away. I said, "Don't cry, Maeve! I saw Fallon. He could never have made babies with you, wife. He was too sick."
"He could!" she insisted. "Fallon wasn't sick! He was just what I wanted him to be. Don't you remember?"
I said, "Remember what?" and she got a sly look in her eyes.
"Ha! You don't have the Memory. Big people don't remember things how they were, but we do. We remember everything from the beginning of the world. Fallon did, and I do, but you can't. Big people think they're so clever, but they're not. We have always been more clever than you."
I said, "Who? You and Fallon?" and she shook her head and said, "Our kin!" as though I was just too stupid to waste time on. I said, "We'll make a new family," and she said, "I won't play with you! You don't have the Memory, and you can't make the bones stand up and sing!"
Forgive the plainness, but there was one bone at that table standing up and singing, and I got to my feet and said to her: "Lord Aegeus couldn't do those things either, but you've played with him. We're married, and you'll play with me now."
She stuck her lip out in anger. I wanted to bite it. She said, "_He_ gave me nice presents."
I said, "So will I. Have you ever seen blossom and apples on one bough? I can make those. I can make a rose as bright as your hair, without a single thorn. I could make a pleasure garden all the divine Lords and Ladies would want for themselves, but it would be yours alone. I can make marvels in the earth, nobody else has the skill to make such places! Even Lord Aegeus. You see?"
I don't know if she saw, crazy as she was, but she didn't fight when I picked her up and carried her away to the bath.
And that was strange, because when we were out of our clothes she was so like a baby I lost all desire. I could have washed her and toweled her as chastely as though I were caring for a child, then; but it seemed our nakedness had the opposite effect on Maeve. She had been capricious snow and ice; now she was a little licking tongue of fire. She laughed and laughed and scrambled all over me in the warm water. I couldn't hold back from her, no man could have, mortal or immortal.
And, I ask you: was it wrong? When she was my wife, and the divine Lords and Ladies themselves had ordered us to love?
Anyway she liked me very well after that, and let me take her to my bed, and I slept with her in my arms half-afraid I'd roll over and crush her, so little she was, a feather, a flame, a snowflake. My wife.
* * * *
Have you ever been in love like that? I don't think people were meant to live that way forever. How could they? They'd never get any work done. And how can you pay attention to anything but the beloved?
Maeve was a late sleeper, too. Though she walked fearless in sunlight, as dead Fallon had been unable to do, she much preferred the night for wakefulness and play: so of course I kept her favorite hours, though no Master Gardener should do that.
I had duties, and I ignored them. The divine Lords and Ladies (and, see, this is another example of their generosity) were gracious enough to overlook this fault. They even sent gifts to my quarters, rare wines, fine foods, jewels and gowns for my darling. She accepted the presents and was happy.
My hedges went untrimmed, and the annuals went to seed and weeds grew between the stones in the garden paths, but no bolt fell from heaven. Indeed, the Botanist Lord himself took time from his rare specimens to go out and oversee the work that had to be done before winter set in, bringing in all the potted citrus to the solarium, spreading out straw with his own noble hands!
When she and I weren't making love, or eating, or sleeping, I sat at my drafting table and plotted out the most beautiful garden in the world for Maeve. She loved to climb up beside me and watch as I worked out the proportions or rendered proposed views in colored chalk. I explained that it was a bower of night, to be at its best in the darkness, like my pretty wife.
She was impatient that it went so slowly. Fallon, I was assured, could have drawn up such plans in an hour, and had the garden miraculously in place before nightfall of one day. That much was surely her fantasy! Fallon may have been a genius, but I know my own work; and no garden is made that way.
Once I asked Maeve where she and Fallon had come from, and she gave me that look as though I were really too stupid to be troubled with and said: "We were stolen."
But I never learned more about it, because she wouldn't say who had stolen the children, or from whom. Perhaps she didn't know.
When she would get bored with watching me she would want to do something else again, so we would, and I thought to myself that even dead Fallon couldn't have worked his miracles if he'd had to stop and do what I was doing every couple of hours. And it seemed to me a fine thing that I should have Maeve's bed and he should have his grave. He may have been a genius, but every time I had ever seen him he had been curling away from the sunlight like a blind worm. My little queen deserved a man, I thought. She'd have a much better life with me!
And, as anybody might have expected the way we were going at it, Maeve had lost her appetite for breakfast before the snows fell. By the time the first bitter storm came down on the Cevennes, there was no possible doubt she was carrying my child.
Now she had no desire for anything but presents, and she was so querulous I had a hard time of it bringing them quickly enough. Her favorite gifts were clothes; Lord Aegeus was kind enough to see that his tailoring staff came to us weekly for measurements and fittings. Warm robes in rich brocade, nightgowns of silk for Maeve's weary swollen body, slippers lined with fleece. When she ordered it I would set aside my work and brush her hair for hours, marveling at the glitter it had, like snow on a bright day. She would close her eyes and croon to herself in pleasure.
Once again I was caring for a child, who had to be coaxed to eat and to take the medicines the divine ones prescribed, who had to be comforted and sung to and held. I told her stories, I told her about how I'd begin her garden as soon as the snows were gone and what rare flowers I'd plant there. This was not conversation, you understand; she wasn't interested in talking; but I thought she liked the sound of my voice.
There was an early thaw that year, and word came from the Lords and Ladies that I ought to tend to my duties again. I protested that I must stay by my wife, for she needed constant care. By way of answer Lord Aegeus himself came and spoke softly to my little darling as I prepared our supper, and brought a sparkle to her dull eyes. He did me the honor of dining with us; and in the course of our meal suggested that Maeve ought to be moved to the Infirmary, as her condition was becoming precarious. There would be nurses to wait on her and I would be freed to prepare the gardens for spring.
I looked doubtfully at Maeve; but she babbled happily with the Lord, more than she would ever deign to speak with me. I saw she wanted to go. So I agreed.
* * * *
The only thing I could do then was work, desperately, and how I loved my work for the peace it gave me. Can you understand? There was so much to do after the winter, but it wasn't enough; I paced out the area for the wonder I was going to make, Maeve's night-garden, and cut the terraces myself and laid the forms for the concrete retaining walls and the stairs and balustrades. I spoke at length with the Botanist Lord and we prepared seedlings, slips and shoots. There were fine big hedges and trees in pots, that could be moved on rollers to the locations I wanted and set in place, to shade my darling's pleasaunce as though they'd grown there thirty years. The Lord was impressed when he saw my designs.
But Maeve was not impressed, when I would come to the Infirmary in the evenings to tell her what I'd been doing. Sometimes she seemed barely to remember me. Sometimes she was impatient and disdainful. Sometimes the Lord Aegeus was with her, chatting intimately when I'd come in, and he'd scold her when she was rude to me.
All the while our son kicked in her womb.
So in the morning I couldn't rise early enough, and the lawns had never been so perfectly in trim, and Maeve's own exquisite garden took on such form all the immortal Lords and Ladies came out of the mountain to wonder at it. They took me aside and told me how proud of me they were. They told me I was going to far surpass old Claude. They gave me commissions for designs, pot gardens for their private suites. I devised a way to build a running stream and ferny grotto in a sitting room for the Lord Marcus. I devised an arbor of roses black as ink, approached along a walk framed by black irises and black velvet pansies, for the Lady Ereshkigal. I devised an apple with the savor of Black Elysium Liqueur for the Lord Nathan. Immortals have eclectic tastes. But I had their respect, and that was a great consolation to me.